


Make me wanna know that body like it’s mine

by sarahcakes613



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Flirting, Gyms, M/M, Personal Trainer Sonny Carisi, Rafael is thirsty, Self-Esteem Issues, he needs to drink more water
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:08:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27644582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahcakes613/pseuds/sarahcakes613
Summary: Rafael starts to think maybe he needs to do something about his stomach. His journey to find a gym leads him to enthusiastic personal trainer Sonny.There's hip thrusting and squats and Rafael is dehydrated.
Relationships: Rafael Barba/Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 66
Collections: Barisi Professions Bingo





	Make me wanna know that body like it’s mine

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so. The thing is. I posted a tweet at like, 3am Lisbon time, to be like "hey I need a TSwift lyric to title this story" and I did it on purpose because I knew Kat would be asleep.  
> And then I got two separate DMs from friends being like wtf bitch why didn't you just ask me and long story short that is how I remembered that I have many Swiftie friends and I love you all.

Where there should be a button, there is only a frayed thread. 

Rafael doesn’t bother looking for the button, he can rely on his cat finding it sooner or later. He’s more concerned with the dramatic way it had popped off when he attempted to do his jacket up. 

He smooths down his shirt, stands sideways as he looks at himself in the mirror. It’s possible there is a slightly more rounded curve to his stomach. He’s not sure when it happened, that’s the thing with seeing yourself every day. Change is gradual and you don’t realize it’s happening until it’s gone and happened. 

He hastily swaps out the jacket for another one, grateful that he’s only going to meet his mother for brunch and not running late for work. Mami won’t care if he wears blue jeans with a brown sports coat, whereas Buchanan had once commented because he hadn’t been paying attention one morning and had shown up for a motion hearing in a pair of brown dress shoes and a black belt. 

As he walks, he finds himself more aware of the body he is inhabiting, feeling his limbs shift and move, feeling how each part of him touches itself. He can feel his stomach swell in and out with every breath he takes and he wonders how he’s never noticed it before. 

He’ll need to stop raiding Liv’s snack drawer when he visits the precinct, that’s all. 

When he gets to the restaurant, Lucia is already there waiting for him. He kisses her cheek and sits down, opening a menu. 

Somehow simultaneously everything and nothing looks appealing. He chooses at random and has forgotten what he ordered almost as soon as the waiter leaves the table. 

When it arrives, he only picks at it. 

“Rafi, are you okay? You’ve barely touched your food.” Lucia looks concerned, and Rafael shakes his head, forcing a smile. 

“I’m fine mami, just didn’t sleep well.” 

She nods decisively and gestures for a waiter. “You’ll take the rest home and have it for dinner.” 

He knows better than to argue with her, which is how he finds himself walking home, a takeout bag hanging from his wrist and bumping against his thigh with every other step. 

A door opens into his path, and he steps back to let some young women leave a building. Thumping music spills out of the door and he looks in the window to see it is a small boutique gym. Everyone in there looks like they came out of the womb riding spin bikes and have probably never popped a button on their clothing in their lives. 

It gives him an idea though, one that he thinks merits further consideration. He enjoys food, and this morning’s lack of appetite aside, he’s not interested in forcing himself to keep to some restrictive diet that will leave him feeling tired or resentful. 

He’d never been very good at baseball, had really only joined the team for Eddie, but he’d always liked track. He’s not sure he wants to take up jogging, at least not at this time of year, but maybe what he needs is to spend some time on the treadmill, just enough that his jackets stop straining to hold him. 

As he looks back into the window of the gym, a trainer catches his eye. He smiles tentatively, and the trainer’s eyes run up and down him and then he sneers. 

Rafael’s smile drops and he pushes away from the building, flush with embarrassment. 

When he gets home he puts his leftovers away and changes out of his jeans into a pair of comfortable sweatpants. He lives in New York, surely to goodness that storefront gym isn’t the only one near him. 

A quick search on his phone proves that is indeed the case, and he scrolls through the Google reviews of private and franchise and community gyms until he finds the 39th Street Y, a community centre that offers fitness classes and personal training sessions. The promotional website shows a diverse assortment of body types and nobody in the photos is sneering. 

He leaves his house before he can change his mind. 

When he gets there, he looks around the open foyer area. There is a flag stand in one corner with two flags hanging limply, and on the wall there is a giant tree of life made of plaques, each naming a donor who has partially funded the community centre. He must have missed something on the website, because the longer he looks around the more he realizes he's walked into a Jewish community centre. He’s about to leave when the guard at the security desk calls him over. 

“Can I help you, sir?” She asks politely. 

“No, no, I was looking for the gym but I’m not Jewish.” 

She stares blankly at him. “So?” 

He looks around again more carefully, and sees two women in hijabs standing by the elevator bank. Across the lobby, there is a small gathering of teenagers playing cards, and the glint of someone’s giant blinged out cross catches Rafael’s eye. 

He looks back at the security guard, who arches an eyebrow. “Would you like directions to the fitness centre?” 

After showing a piece of photo ID and scribbling on a sign-in sheet, a somewhat sheepish Rafael is directed towards a staircase that will take him down to the gym. 

He bypasses the pool and dance studio and cautiously opens the door to a room full of exercise equipment. 

“Hey man, come on in, don’t be shy!” A brash voice calls out to him and he slips into the room. The voice is attached to a tall slim man wearing a branded long-sleeved polo shirt and a pair of athletic leggings. He looks impossibly young, although Rafael does spot a glimmer of silver in his light brown hair. 

“Are you interested in joining the gym?” He asks. “I’d be happy to give you a tour, show you the facilities.” 

“Yes,” Rafael says. “And possibly some personal training sessions?” 

It’s one thing to sweat in front of a single partial-stranger, Rafael’s not even slightly interested in doing it in front of an entire room full of other people working out. He hopes they offer flexible hours of service. 

“Yeah, wow, absolutely! Way to go!” The man says. His nametag says “SONNY” and underneath it says “trainee”, although someone has affixed a small piece of tape in front of it with “ex-“ scribbled on. 

Sonny notices Rafael peering at his name badge and he laughs. “Yeah, I’m new, I don’t have my official nametag yet, but I’m fully certified, honestly!” 

He leads Rafael on a tour of the space. There are only a handful of people using the machines right now, and Rafael makes a note of the time in the hopes that he can continue to avoid the crowds with each subsequent visit. 

“So what are you looking for in your training sessions?” Sonny asks him when they are seated at a tall table, a membership form in front of Rafael. The chairs are also tall, and Rafael has to hold on to the table to hoist himself up, his feet dangling awkwardly until he catches them on the footrest. 

“I’m not really sure,” Rafael admits. “I mainly just want my clothes to fit me.” 

Sonny nods eagerly. “That’s totally legit man, that’s a valid reason, and we can totally work on that!” He thumbs through the paperwork and pulls out the leaflet on training packages. “So for you what I would recommend is this package here; it’s twice a week and it would focus mostly on toning.” 

His fingers are long and his nails short, and Rafael watches them tap the clipboard. 

“What kind of schedule are you hoping for?” Sonny asks. “Some of the trainers are on limited schedules but we can – “ 

Rafael interrupts him. “I thought – you would be my trainer?” 

“Oh!” Sonny smiles. “Yeah, of course, we can do that. You’d be my first official client!” 

“You’ll be my first as well.” Rafael says, and then immediately realizes what he said. “I mean, my first trainer. At a gym.” 

Sonny’s eyes twinkle. “I figured.” 

Rafael does not have a response to that, but he can feel the tips of his ears warming up. 

“Is this a good time for you?” Sonny asks. “We could do Saturdays after lunch and then let’s say Tuesdays? I work nights during the week, so that will work out well if you have a nine-to-fiver.” 

“I’m a lawyer,” Rafael grimaces. “I’m never really off the clock. I can make Tuesday evenings work though.” 

Sonny nods again. “Then let’s go with that. I think all that’s really left is to get you onto some of the machines so I can see how you handle the equipment.” 

He lends Rafael a lock to put away his coat and personal effects, and politely waits for Rafael outside the change room. Rafael looks at himself in the full-length mirror. In a t-shirt, his paunch feels even more pronounced, and he tugs at his shirt in an attempt to stretch it out so it doesn’t cling so much. It doesn’t work. 

“Rafael, damn!” Sonny whistles when he walks out, and reaches a fist out to lightly punch Rafael on the bicep. “You were hiding these from me under that coat. I thought you said you had no muscle training experience!” 

Rafael’s biceps flex unconsciously. “I don’t,” he says. “I guess carrying stacks of heavy legal books is good for something.” He jokes, but finds himself relieved that there is some part of him that Sonny is already pleased with. 

“I’m not going to make a gun show joke, but seriously,” Sonny nods approvingly. “I’m seeing great muscle definition up here.” 

He starts Rafael with a short cardio warm-up, five minutes of brisk walking on the treadmill while they talk. He asks Rafael a few questions about his eating habits, how much water he drinks. He purses his lips when Rafael admits to an extremely skewed ratio of coffee to water. 

“I really want you to try and work on that,” Sonny says as he hits the speed button on the treadmill, forcing Rafael to walk at a faster pace. “At least one glass of water for every cup of coffee you’re having. Two is better, but we’ll start small.” 

“I’ll try,” Rafael promises through huffing breath. The incline on the treadmill makes it feel like he’s walking up a flight of stairs, and he can feel sweat starting to gather at his hairline and under his arms. 

He glances down and sees dark patches spreading out under his pecs as well, and he suddenly feels very aware of the pale colour of his t-shirt and the darkness of his chest hair underneath. As the treadmill slows down, his breathing evens out, but he still feels the need to bend over slightly as he steps down, hands on his knees as he focuses on his breathing. 

“Get some water.” Sonny nudges him towards a fountain and he gulps greedily at the cool stream of water. There is also a paper towel dispenser and he mops up some of the sweat from his face and neck before returning to Sonny. 

“Okay, so I think we’re probably going to spend most of our time over here,” Sonny circles his hand around the squat rack. There’s also a handful of weight machines that Rafael doesn’t know the names of, and a display of free weights and kettlebells. 

It’s a lot of heavy looking equipment, and Rafael must look terrified because Sonny puts a hand gently on his shoulder and squeezes. 

“I know it’s a lot to take in, but we’ll go at your pace, okay? I’m not just going to put you on the Olympic weight bench and drop two hundred pounds on your chest.” 

Standing close enough that he can smell Sonny’s musky deodorant, Rafael thinks that he might not mind having that amount of weight balanced on his chest, if it was roughly the size and shape of his personal trainer. 

“We’re going to use plates for most of the routines, I think, but kettlebells are a great tool for working the midsection, so we’re going to incorporate those as well. Here, I’ll show you one of my favourite exercises. Watch carefully.” 

Sonny picks one up and sets it down next to a bench. He plants his feet firmly on the ground, lowering himself into a bridge with his head and upper back on the bench, and then picks up the kettlebell. Holding it close, he lowers his hips to the ground and then thrusts them up, bringing the kettlebell with him. 

“Do you see how my hips control the motion?” Sonny asks. 

“Uh,” Rafael manages to say, but he tries to say it in a tone that implies agreement. He definitely sees the control in Sonny’s hips. He also sees the strength in Sonny’s thighs as they push up, and the grip he has on the kettlebell. He wonders if Sonny would appreciate having a larger amount of weight pushing down on his hips as he thrusts up. 

“Here, now you try,” Sonny sets the weight down and jumps up to standing. 

Rafael lowers himself carefully to the bench and tries to imitate Sonny’s positioning. He can feel his thighs quivering as they work to hold him up and he grimaces. 

“Hold in your core,” Sonny says. “Pretend you’re bracing for the impact of someone punching you in the stomach.” 

Rafael sucks in his stomach and feels the pressure lessen slightly in his legs. 

Sonny considers him. “Alright, let’s start without the weight for now. Move your back up a little bit more – yeah, there you go. Now lower your hips towards the ground but don’t let your butt hit the floor.” 

He bites his lip as he tilts his hips down, and blows out a breath of relief when he manages to stop himself before he hits the ground. 

“Good, that’s great, Raf! Now come on, back up.” 

Rafael looks up at Sonny with an arched brow. “Raf?” 

“Sorry, habit. Do you prefer Rafael?” 

“Either is fine.” Rafael pushes himself up. 

“One more time,” Sonny says. He kneels next to Rafael and puts his hand out. “I want to see if you can get lower without hitting ground. Don’t stop until you hit my hand.” 

Rafael huffs a laugh. “I normally expect a man to buy me a drink before I let him cop a feel.” 

“I’ll take you to the juice bar after our session, how does that sound?” Sonny grins at him. 

“I’d prefer a cocktail, but I suppose that will do.” 

Sonny bites his lip like he’s holding back a comment and Rafael quirks an eyebrow at him as he lowers himself again and lets his ass graze the back of Sonny’s hand. He must look surprised, because Sonny just winks at him. 

“I’ll turn my hand around after I’ve bought you that drink.” 

After Rafael pushes himself up one more time, Sonny offers his hand, gripping Rafael’s to help him up. 

“Okay, now we’re going to get you on the squat rack. Don’t worry about what I put on the bar to show you form, I’ll change the plates out when it’s your turn.” 

He says it in a matter-of-fact way that Rafael likes, not showing off his own prowess, but reminding Rafael that he’s working with someone who does this for a living and so he shouldn’t feel like he needs to be at Sonny’s level. 

Which is good, because the number of large plates Sonny sets up on the barbell is frankly alarming as he moves underneath to demonstrate proper technique. 

“It’s important to make sure you aren’t letting the bar sit too high up your neck or too far down your back,” he says. “You want to make a shelf with your shoulders and upper back.” 

Under the tight shirt, his muscles bunch and twist as he positions the bar. 

“Posture is also super important,” he continues. “You’re going to feel it in your whole body, you’re gonna feel muscles aching that you didn’t even know you have. We do have a registered masseuse on staff, if that’s something you want, or I also recommend making use of one of the massage chairs at the end of each session.” 

Rafael isn’t sure how he feels about sitting in a leather chair right after a sweat-inducing workout, but then all thoughts of massages and anything else fly out of his head as Sonny steps into position and demonstrates how to squat while holding a weighted barbell. 

He bends slowly, his chest pushed forward and his ass pushed back, and Rafael’s mouth goes dry. He’s aware enough of internet lingo and he knows that the peach emoji doesn’t just signify a desire for fruit salad. Looking at the stretchy athletic leggings, Rafael definitely understands the connection because Sonny’s ass is fucking delectable. 

Sonny is looking straight ahead at the wall of mirrors which means he sees Rafael’s gaze drift down and then snap back up with a cough. He catches Rafael’s eye in the mirror and winks at him again as he returns to standing. 

“Alright, your turn.” He hoists the bar up onto the rack and switches the plates for smaller ones. 

Rafael flinches as the bar comes to rest on his shoulders, but Sonny doesn’t let go until he is sure Rafael has it steady. Even then, he keeps his hands on Rafael, squaring his hips and pressing lightly on his back to straighten it. 

“You ready?” He looks at Rafael in the mirror, and Rafael nods. 

Sonny steps back and Rafael takes a deep breath as he bends his knees and then lifts back up. He does it again, and again, until Sonny tells him to stop. When he steps away from the rack his thighs are burning, but he’s just lifted his own weight’s worth accumulatively and he quietly basks in the glow of that achievement. 

He also feels pretty good about the way he’d watched Sonny in the mirror, and had seen the other man’s eyes drift down to his own ass as he squatted. Unlike his stomach, his ass is not a body part Rafael’s got any problems with and he’s quite certain Sonny wasn’t looking with a critical trainer’s eye. 

The trainer is standing right behind him as he helps lift the bar up onto the rack. When it’s done, Rafael turns around. Sonny doesn’t move back fast enough, and their faces are so close their noses nearly brush in a kiss. 

Sonny steps back, blushing, and Rafael watches in fascination as the pink crawls down his neck and disappears under his shirt. 

“I think that’s probably good for today,” Sonny says, bending down to pick up his clipboard. 

For entirely unrelated reasons, Rafael makes a mental note to stop by a fruit stand on his way home and get some peaches. 

Sonny waits again for Rafael to get his things from the locker room and then leads him to the front desk to finalize his membership paperwork. 

“So I’ll see you on Tuesday?” Sonny asks, and Rafael decides to shoot his shot. 

“Or sooner?” He says, leaning forward on the counter, his biceps flexing. Sonny’s eyes draw down to the movement. 

“Sooner?” Sonny repeats. 

“Maybe tomorrow?” 

“Tomorrow’s my day off,” Sonny says faintly, still looking at Rafael’s arms. 

“We could get lunch,” Rafael offers. 

Sonny’s eyes finally return to meet Rafael’s, and he smiles but it’s a small thing, a mournful thing. 

“I can’t date clients,” he says. 

“Think of it as work,” Rafael replies. “Maybe I need someone to monitor my caffeine to water intake.” 

Sonny laughs but shakes his head as he turns the clipboard towards Rafael for his final signature. 

Rafael picks up the pen, but doesn’t sign, instead tapping the pen thoughtfully on the counter. 

“As long as I haven’t signed this, I’m not officially your client.” He says, gesturing to the membership forms. 

“Lawyer, huh?” Sonny’s eyes crinkle in the corners as he considers Rafael. 

“I’m just saying,” Rafael shrugs. “You can’t date someone who’s a client, but I daresay there’s no rule against taking on a client who you happen to be dating.” 

Sonny bites his lip as he thinks. “I guess maybe I can misplace your paperwork for a day.” He tucks the clipboard under the counter. 

“It’s a date, then.” Rafael says. He pulls a business card out of his wallet and reaches over to tuck it in Sonny’s shirt pocket. 

Rafael is sweaty and his muscles still feel like overworked rubber as he leaves the gym, but even as he catches his reflection in the window, he’s feeling pretty good about himself. 

**Author's Note:**

> I really miss the massage chairs at my gym you guys wow fuck covid.


End file.
